


Evolution

by theclaravoyant



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Polyamory, Shield-Free AU, domestic AU, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 10:30:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10615050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theclaravoyant/pseuds/theclaravoyant
Summary: They lived pleasantly, but modestly; they worked hard and loved each other - then, one night, they had a visitor.prompt: FitzSimmons meet (& fall in love with) Vigilante Daisy





	

**Author's Note:**

> I just want them to be happy!! There are so many cuddles in this universe you don't even know. Anyone who is interested in a part 2 (probably with more cuddles), let me know.
> 
> T for some political themes & some sexual references.  
> POLY FITZSKIMMONS AHEAD. Anti-polyamory comments will be deleted immediately.
> 
> prompt: FitzSimmons meet (& fall in love with) Vigilante Daisy.
> 
> In this verse, Shield does exist but FitzSimmons were never on the team; they continued in academic pathways as world-renowned scientists while Daisy joined and left the team without ever having met them, until now...

Doctors Leopold Fitz and Jemma Simmons were, famously, amongst the brightest minds of their age. Young, attractive, ambitious and intelligent beyond belief, they had the world at their feet. As is the case with many bright, passionate young people however, these two had good and gentle hearts and were content to live pleasantly, but modestly. They worked hard and loved each other, and over the years they built a home together, in a classic brownstone near where they’d met, near where they’d worked together; a warm and steady place to come back to as their projects and everything else struggled to pull them apart.

Then, one night, they had a visitor.

The pair were mulling over a new research proposal, in front of the fireplace and over glasses of red wine - the picture of warmth and quiet decadence – when all of a sudden a woman who was a hurricane burst into their living room. She was moving quickly and it was hard to tell anything except that she was short, with short hair, a blur of black and white desperate to make sure that she had not been followed. Then she turned to the Doctors, eyes wide and desperate, and demanded breathlessly –

“Are you with Shield?”

It was not long after they assured her that they were, that their intruder pulled a face of extraordinary agony and staggered toward their sofa, slowly collapsing.

“Water,” she begged, and Fitz hurried to comply while Jemma looked over the state of their new arrival, who was finally still as she lay out on the sofa, breathing shakily. The need for an explanation faded to a prickling curiosity as they all concerned themselves with the stranger’s survival. She’d taken a bullet to the gut, and there was blood and pain to patch up and a good amount of brandy to drink – split between the stranger and Fitz, who had never had the stomach for medical operations, ad-hoc or otherwise.

“Honestly, Fitz!” Jemma rolled her eyes and snatched the bottle away. “Get the poor girl a change of clothes. Everything’s covered in blood here.”

The stranger tracked him to the doorway with her eyes, smiling, and Fitz felt strangely comforted by her friendliness and optimism in such dire circumstances. He paused for a moment, to smile back.

“The poor girl’s name is Daisy,” the stranger murmured.

“Sorry. Daisy. Of course,” Jemma corrected herself. “I didn’t think you were listening.”

“It’s better than feeling,” Daisy said, as if that was an explanation.

Fitz disappeared upstairs, and returned with clothes and bedding. Jemma finished cleaning and dressing Daisy’s wound, and insisted upon feeding her.

“Oh, no, it’s okay,” Daisy insisted, waving it off. “I’ve already bled all over your place. I’m starting to regret this. I think I’d better go.”

“Nonsense!” Jemma declared. “I’ll just heat up a plate of leftovers, it’s no trouble. And if you’re with Shield, you can stay however long you want, especially since you can barely sit.”

Daisy broke off eye contact, and Jemma frowned. For a moment, her heart accelerated and the floor seemed to shift beneath her. Had they invited an enemy into their home?

“Actually,” Daisy confessed, “I’m not with Shield. I used to be, but I… left. For personal reasons. A friend of mine told me you two were good people to go to if I needed help and, well – “

She gestured to her prone body. Jemma smiled softly, reassured a little.

“Are you with anyone else?” she wondered.

“No. Just me.”

“How did the injury happen then, if you don’t mind?”

Daisy pressed her lips together. “Uh, I’m not sure if I should –“

“You _did_ bleed all over my living room,” Jemma pointed out, more sternly. “I think I have the right to know why.”

Daisy sighed.

“Have you heard of the Watchdogs?”

The flinty spark of fury that crossed behind Jemma’s eyes was reflected in Daisy’s own, and a trust formed between them at the thought.

“Of course,” Jemma said, nonetheless. “Human supremicists. I’ve heard their next big plan is to get hold of the Sokovia Accords registry and do who-knows-what to the Gifted people on it.”

Daisy frowned.

“From my research, they’ve already got the records. Some of them, anyhow. People are feeding them information from the inside. Shield wanted to be part of it. Not the corruption thing, obviously, but the Accords, so I couldn’t stay.”

Jemma pieced it all together slowly in her mind.

“You’re Inhuman,” she breathed.

“Are you scared?” Daisy returned.

Objectively, it was hard to be scared of a fairly drunk, fairly immobile young woman who’d stumbled quite literally into you while bleeding, even if the blood was from a rather serious bullet wound she seemed to have successfully ignored for some time. On top of that, Daisy seemed friendly and kind and open, and did not invite nor threaten violence, Inhuman or no. Jemma shook her head.

“You’ve given me no reason to be afraid.”

At the simply stated reassurance, Daisy felt herself settle a little. She took a few deep breaths in silence; letting it sink in; letting herself be reassured of her safety and of the legitimacy of Coulson’s recommendations.

“You should tell Fitz when he comes down, though,” Jemma prompted. “He won’t be bothered at all, unless you try to keep something from him.”

“Fair enough,” Daisy agreed. “Now about these clothes – sorry, but I may need your help.”

-

One night of emergency accommodation turned into a few days, and then weeks. At first, Daisy only stayed at Jemma’s insistence as a medical professional, and then, like when Jemma left for a conference in Kyoto, out of simple ease and preference. She was welcome here, and Fitz was a kind and safe, if slightly obscure, person to be around. As Daisy recovered, she began to pick up household chores to repay her hosts, and one night, she even cooked for herself and Fitz while he was out.

From the kitchen, Daisy heard him – them? - stumble through the door in a bundle of bags and suitcases. She stuck her head into the hall and saw Jemma in loose tracksuit pants and a cardigan, held and guided by Fitz, who was still suited-up and well-groomed but for the slight wear of a day in the office (and at least one very enthusiastic kiss, Daisy added, observing his hair).

“Daisy!” Jemma cheered, though her exhaustion was obvious from frazzled hair and bags under her eyes. “Good to see you!”

“You too!” Daisy greeted, her genuine joy mixing with the sinking feeling of being unwelcome as she realised what she might be interrupting. “Uh – I didn’t know you’d be back so soon, Jemma, but if you guys want a night off from babysitting the Inhuman, I’ll make myself scarce. I made vindaloo, it’s on the stove.”

“Nonsense!” Jemma waved her off, at the same time Fitz perked up.

“You cooked?”

Daisy’s smile returned, hearing their enthusiasm.

“Well, if you’re sure,” she said, “I’ll put some rice on and dish up. We’ll spread it between three, easy.”

They reconvened in the lounge room, since none of them were feeling particularly formal, and Daisy passed around the plates. Over dinner, they got to talking about what Jemma had been up to, a few recent stories from the lab at Fitz’s work, and a brief, if incomplete update on Daisy’s goings-on.

“Mm-“ Jemma leapt to interrupt over a mouthful of sweet potato. Hurrying to swallow it down, she continued: “I was talking to my colleagues the other day, and it got me thinking – what do you think about an Inhuman cure?”

Daisy stiffened. “Cure?”

“It doesn’t exist yet,” Jemma clarified, “but apparently there’s a group in Toronto working on it. I know medicalisation of things has caused a lot of trouble in the past, but Inhumanity’s quite new, and – in the academic field, anyway – there’s a lot of debate about what it – well, what it is.”

Daisy clenched a hand around her fork.

“I don’t really know what it is,” she confessed, a little stiffly. “But I really don’t think a cure is a good idea. My powers are a part of me. I couldn’t decide not to be Inhuman any more than I could decide not to be half Chinese. Other people deciding that for me? No thank you.”

“But if it could be assured to be voluntary,” Jemma clarified. “Hypothetically.”

Daisy pushed a piece of chicken around with her fork.

“Don’t you think each Inhuman should have that choice?” Jemma pressed.

Daisy took a deep breath. She could feel Jemma’s eyes burning into her, where she was intently avoiding their gaze. She was just trying to be kind, trying to be interested, it wasn’t her fault she was tweaking nerves. Not any more than it was Daisy’s fault that the windows and the ornaments on the bookshelves around them started shaking.

“Jemma,” Fitz warned quietly, looking around. “I don’t think she wants to talk about that anymore.”

Jemma looked around too, then, and noticed. She stood up, turning on the spot to observe the quake.

“Oh, my…”

“Excuse me.”

Daisy leapt out of her seat and bolted up the stairs, and slammed the door behind her. A few seconds later, the shaking ceased, and Fitz and Jemma were left to finish their meal in silence.

When they were done, and Daisy still had not come down, Jemma heated her plate and took it up instead. She knocked on the door, and waited for Daisy to call her before she pushed in a little way. Daisy perked up at the sight of her food, and of Jemma’s apologetic face.

“I’m sorry,” Jemma said. “I’m a scientist, I’m used to having more… willing subjects. I shouldn’t have pushed. I didn’t mean to make you feel abnormal or unwelcome. You’re safe here, and loved. I promise. I just get really interrogative sometimes.”

“I get it,” Daisy promised, to Jemma’s relief. “And to be honest, it’s nice that you care about my opinions. I’m sick of everyone else having discussions about ‘the Inhuman problem’. Like hello. I’m a person.”

She rolled her eyes, and Jemma nodded in agreement and sympathy. Then Daisy sighed.

“Thanks for coming to see me. And bringing me dinner. I didn’t want to run out back there, I just didn’t want to…quake up your lounge room.”

“That was you?” Jemma checked, the sparkle of fascination lighting up her face again. “How does it work? – I mean, maybe we can talk about it another day?”  
  
“Sure thing.” Daisy smiled. She was too tired to deal with an intense conversation now, but Jemma’s interest – and the way her face lit up when she was interested – were too inviting to pass up.

“Okay. Great! Well, I’m going to head to bed, then,” Jemma said. “Fitz has got a monkey documentary on downstairs, orangutans I think, if you want to join him, or steal the telly after.”

Daisy shrugged again, but smiled a little this time.

“I could go for some monkeys.”

Jemma smiled back.

“Good,” she said. “Goodnight then. And thanks for dinner.”

“You’re welcome.”

Extracting herself from Daisy’s side, Jemma made her way toward the door, but stopped when she was called back for one last offering.

“Something to put to your colleagues,” Daisy suggested. “If it really is choice you’re worried about. Can an Inhuman really make a free choice, on whether or not to take the cure, if the other choice means being outcast, outlawed and killed? That’s coercion, isn’t it?”

Jemma milled it over.

“Excellent suggestion,” she said. “I’ll put it to them.”

-

The brief tension that night was quickly forgotten, and in fact, after that, their coexistence of convenience became, increasingly, a mobilised partnership. Daisy helped Fitz and Jemma learn about Inhumans, and they helped her get information and learn who to avoid and who to talk to. Fitz and Jemma set her up with technology for the field, and at home, a proper bed in the room that used to be study, and their study spread throughout their house as a result, but they made it work. Daisy participated in their research, not always related to Inhumans – sometimes about counting birds, or testing virtual reality. More than that, she baked with Jemma, and played intense and vibrant video games with Fitz. She became a staple of the household, and of the relationship, before any of them had even noticed.

The first time they noticed, was on the way to one of Jemma’s conferences, this one in Moscow. Most of the journey to the aiport had been spent with Fitz driving, and Daisy helping Jemma practice Russian phrases in the back seat, but once they had farewelled Jemma and returned to the car, was when it happened.

“Don’t you get a little, I don’t know, jealous?” Daisy wondered. “Stuck at home while Jemma’s galavanting all around the place?”

Fitz shrugged.

“I get my fair share too,” he explained. “In fact, I’ve recently been invited to Sumatra myself, for a few months starting in June. They’re exploring technological adaptation to climate change and they wanted my help. It’s an honour, really. I was going to bring it up at dinner, because I’ve been asked to bring a research associate, and I was thinking - why don’t you come?”  
  
Daisy blinked.

“Shouldn’t you take someone who is like…you know, actually studying?”

“Yes,” Fitz acknowledged, “but I was thinking, as more of a disguise. Indonesia’s not so far from a lot of places, there could be a lot of Inhumans that need your help. Plus, a different policy context and some contacts in the Pacific region couldn’t hurt, right?”

“I just don’t know how many Inhumans I’m going to meet in _Sumatra,”_ Daisy objected. Fitz snorted.

“There are 50 million people there, Daisy, I’m sure one of them will find meeting you to be useful.”

“Oi.” She shoved him playfully, and laughed for a bit, but afterward, shrugged him off nonetheless. “Nah. I shouldn’t.”

“Why not? If you have people here who rely on you, we’d be happy to set something up –“

“No,” Daisy interrupted. “Although, a bit of that. But no. I was thinking more about how it would look – respected scientist leaves his wife at home, travels for several months to balmy tropical island with a mysterious stranger, they swear nothing will happen but it does and then they have to decide whether to lie about it or tell the explosive truth…”

“You make it sound like a bad movie!” Fitz objected. “Nothing would happen.”  
  
“Mm-hmm. That’s what they all say.” Daisy nodded to herself, but then asked, more seriously: “Is it really that hard to imagine?”

And it wasn’t. And so the rest of the car trip passed in silence as the two of them tried not to reflect too much on how, or how much, they’d thought about each other. When they got home, they went their separate ways, and waited for a very different kind of tension to die out. Eventually, it did – or that’s what they told themselves, but that didn’t stop Jemma coming home in the middle of the night a week later to find the two of them tangled up in bed together. Sleeping. Just sleeping. Only ever sleeping. But no longer without that question over them.

“Jemma –“ Fitz checked, the next morning, following her around the kitchen while she busied herself making omelets. “I just want to make sure you know. Nothing happened. Our bed’s just better, and we were just watching TV. I swear.”

Jemma laughed.

“It’s _okay_ , Fitz,” she insisted. “I believe you. And I know you’d never do anything untoward without asking me first.”

Fitz frowned, caught off-guard by her choice of words.  
  
“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Come on. Daisy is undeniably attractive, highly intelligent, and bright in a lot of other ways too. She’s confident, strong, a total bad-ass. A rebel with a heart of gold. It’s only reasonable to expect that your eyes might wander on occasion. I know mine have.”

_“What?”_

“I’m just saying: you don’t have to act like the thought of being interested in Daisy is repulsive. I understand it. I accept it! I also understand that you understand that this is, at present, a monogamous relationship and that you would never cheat on me or hurt me in any way. So I’m neither angry nor bothered. Please stop stressing about it, and start cutting tomatoes.”

Jemma pushed the chopping board, the tomatoes, and a knife toward him, and Fitz began to dice them, running mostly on muscle memory as in his head, he contemplated what she had said.

_Without asking me first._

Was that all it would take? Could it be that he could, in fact, explore his relationship with Daisy without it turning into a sordid melodrama? He found the thought of it surprisingly enticing; emboldening, even. Could it be that all he had to do was ask?

Before he lost his nerve, Fitz called Daisy down for breakfast and spun the plates across the table with gusto. Daisy stepped off the stairwell with alarm in her eyes, but when she looked to Jemma for explanation, found only a slight, stifled, somewhat knowing smile. Fitz had his hands on his hips, as if prepared to speak, but it seemed the longer he stared at her the less he could think to say. She sat down without a word, trying not to laugh at the silence, crackling with mystery, that engulfed them all.

“Alright,” Fitz finally announced. “Okay. Here goes.”

He swung into his seat splaying his hands on the table as if to help him conceptualise something. Daisy and Jemma watched intently, one unknowing, and one with a good guess as to what he was about to propose, and not quite sure if she believed he would actually do it.

“So,” he began again. “As you both know, I’ve been invited to Sumatra in June. The placement is three months. Daisy knows I’ve been contemplating asking her along.”

Jemma looked to her, and Daisy nodded.

“Her main objection, as I saw it, was that it would be inappropriate for me to go away with her for so long, when we’re so close, and when I’m with you, Jemma. Now, I – I may be making a few leaps in assumptions here, but it seemed to me that, maybe, perhaps, if Jemma wasn’t… an obstacle, you – Daisy – would be inclined to take me up on that.”

“…Sure,” Daisy agreed. “I mean the rest of the stuff you said was good but – what’s going on here? Are you breaking up with Jemma? Are we having the Divorce Talk right now?”

“No,” Jemma answered for him, struggling and failing to stop herself smiling. Her heart ached for Fitz and his clearly wracked nerves, but he was doing a good job so far in putting forward his own case, so she gestured for him to continue.

“Jemma and I have been talking,” he said, “and she –um – opened up the possibility of…oh, jeez. Please don’t take this the wrong way, Daisy, but of an…open relationship. Of sorts.”

“What I said was,” Jemma clarified, “that as long as I was aware of the possibility of it, I wouldn’t mind at all if you two wanted to get together. On whatever terms the two of you are happy with, and of course, only if you’re interested. But if something happens between the two of you in Sumatra, say, I wouldn’t be bothered by it, that’s all. I love and trust the both of you and as long as you’re happy and I’m happy, there’s no reason for me to kick up a fuss.”

“And –“ Fitz jumped in. “And please don’t think this reflects negatively on our friendship at all. I don’t mean anything weird by it and I don’t just want to get in your pants, I really, really do love you as a friend too, I just – I think –“

Daisy nodded thoughtfully, seeing where he was going.

“It might not be so hard to imagine?” she posed, finishing his thought for him.

The two of them gazed between each other for a moment, thinking of all that had sat between them on the car ride home from the airport that day. Daisy checked over Jemma’s posture again, and rather than hesitation or jealousy, it seemed she was rather excited about the new development her relationships seemed to be taking. With her loyalty to Jemma no longer in question, Daisy thought maybe she could more freely consider the possibility of falling in love with sweet, awkward, heroic Fitz. (And he wasn’t half bad to look at, either.) It really wasn’t so hard to imagine it.

“Okay,” she decided. “I’m in. But, ah, one question - are we sure Jemma doesn’t want in on this? Is it just Fitz and me, or should it be all three of us? I mean, I’m down if you are.”

“It does seem natural, doesn’t it?” Jemma mused. “But are you and Fitz actually in a relationship as of this moment, or are you just testing the waters? It seems like asking for disaster if you two don’t work out, to put this much pressure on it. Maybe we shouldn’t get too ahead of ourselves.”

“That’s true,” Daisy agreed, “and this is all pretty new to all of us. I vote we see how it goes.”  
  
“Alright.”

“Excellent!”

Fitz, blushing, slumped in his seat with relief and satisfaction. He smiled down at his breakfast, and then remembered –

“Speaking of eggs, eat up, I’ve got to go.”

Leaping out of his seat, he took his plate and shook the omelet into a carry-container to eat later. He rushed for his satchel and keys and Jemma and Daisy, bemused, followed him to the door. He pecked Jemma on the lips quickly, wishing her goodbye, and then turned to Daisy. They tried left, and right, and ducked out on each other until they were both grinning and laughing.

“Okay, nope, go to work. Definitely go to work,” Daisy insisted, waving him off, and then shouting down the driveway after him – “And for the love of God _find a real research assistant!”_


End file.
